


intense

by dottie_wan_kenobi



Series: Brutalia Bingo (2019-2020) [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Banter, Banter during sex, Car Sex, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Laughter During Sex, POV Bruce Wayne, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, Smut, Timeline What Timeline, can't decide between mature and explicit so going with explicit to be safe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-02 23:14:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21169478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dottie_wan_kenobi/pseuds/dottie_wan_kenobi
Summary: Talia's only in town for one night. There’s not enough time to go back to the Manor or to the penthouse, and no point in getting a hotel room. The only other options are this, or a nearby safehouse—and he won’t deprive the others from one of those.So, Batmobile it is.(for the 'public sex' square on my brutalia bingo card)





	intense

**Author's Note:**

> it's 3 am again so idk if this is horrible or not. I kinda checked it over for typos but hhhhh. if you see any horrible ones, pls let me know <3
> 
> this isn't _super_ explicit, but I thought I'd rate it e to be safe

Bruce chooses a dark corner that’s on his route, one that people usually don’t frequent this time of night. The sight of the Batmobile, the sharp angles of it fierce in the shadows, will be enough to deter anyone who does happen to pass by. And, well, if they’re ballsy and come close, the windows are tinted enough no one can see inside.

“And you’re certain?” Talia asks, glancing around, a careful apathy to her gaze.

“Yes. No one will find us here,” he replies, pulling his cowl off. His comms are off, the kids aware that they’re not to go looking for him unless it’s a real emergency. Talia’s only in town tonight, after all. There’s not enough time to go back to the Manor or to the penthouse, and no point in getting a hotel room. The only other options are this, or a nearby safehouse—and he won’t deprive the others from one of those.

Talia hums, tilting her head a bit as she gives him an intense look. When he pushes his seat back as far as it’ll go, a fire lights up in her eyes. She waits just long enough for him to take off his utility belt before she climbs over the console and right into his lap.

He forgets the belt, dropping it between the seat and the door. As she leans down, her hair flows around them, her body pressing against his in the best ways. Her gaze flicks over his face, landing on his lips, which drop open when he sees how she’s biting her own.

One of them—he’s honestly not sure which—moves, and then they’re kissing.

It’s been too long. Months and months without this. But still, they move together the same way they always have: intuitively. Her hands come up to his jaw, holding him still as she reacquaints herself. They break apart for air, but not for long, too lost in the feeling to take a longer pause.

Behind her back, he rips off his gloves, throwing them to the passenger footwell. Once his hands are free, he sits up, one arm holding her close while the fingers on his other hand tangled in her hair. He tugs just the way she likes, and in retaliation, she grinds down on him. Thankfully, he’s forgone a cup tonight, but they both know the suit mutes the pleasure more than he’d like. It’s a tease, then, one that she keeps up, rocking her hips.

Pulling away, she throws her head back, throat on display.

She’ll kill him if he leaves a mark.

He doesn’t resist the urge to kiss her there anyway, sucking more than he should. Soft sounds come with each little lovebite, spurring him on.

Panting, she says, “Get this damn suit off.”

He’s the one to hum this time, pressing one last kiss to her skin before leaning back. Even with her up on her knees, head ducked against the roof of the car, it’s an ordeal. The top part comes down fine, but pulling it down his legs means he has to shimmy, tugging at the fabric at his waist. The backs of his hands brush against her thighs, just another tease for them both.

She raises one eyebrow, playfully judging him. In response, he touches her a little more firmly, caressing her, getting dangerously close to where she’s warm and sensitive. _Very_ sensitive. He knows that part of her well.

Talia takes the bait, helping him pull the suit off just enough that she can pull him out. Her grin is sharp when she strokes him, tight and slow, _perfect_. He groans, bucking up instinctively.

“Does that feel good, Beloved?” She whispers, voice husky. “Do you like when I touch you?”

Unable to find the words to describe just _how much_ he likes when she touches him, he nods. And because this a game, one he’s determined to win, he grabs her waist, fingers bunching up her skirt. He slips under what still hangs down, brushing gently against skin and lace. Precious moments are spent rubbing her in all the right spots, ones that make her shiver and moan, and then he’s moving his fingers under her underwear, going down, curling inside.

Teasingly, Bruce asks, “Does that feel good?”

In response, Talia just moves against his hand, getting her own pleasure from him. After a moment, she starts stroking him again in earnest.

It feels like how it used to, when they were both young and naive, like a race to the finish line. Once, they laid in bed and tried to see how long they could last without coming—it was one of the most erotic things he’d ever done, a memory that stuck with him for years to come.

But tonight, it’s not a race and it’s not a competition. It’s just them, and the cover of night.

They pull their hands away at the same time, having to speak to communicate a mutual desire to move on. In seconds, she’s repositioning herself over him, tugging her skirt up with one hand and moving her panties out of the way with the other. He holds himself steady as she sinks down, neither of them able to hold in their moans.

Her hands rest against his chest, using that as leverage. Slow, she grinds against him, arching into his wandering touch, pulling up and sinking down again. It’s amazing, her tight heat around him, and he tells her so, says, “_God_, Talia, you’re—”

The rest of it doesn’t have to be said for her to understand, for her to smile, genuine and smug. It’s then that her skirt falls again, and he curses, gathering as much of it as he can and holding it up. She laughs at him, shaking her head.

“You’re overdressed,” he says after a moment, breathless in the best way. “Next time we do this, I’m going to have you naked.”

“Confident, hmm?”

He arches, thrusts up when she squeezes around him. “Very.”

Their pace picks up, soft muted sounds filling the car as they move against each other.

“Good,” she pants. “I am too. And next time, we’re doing this in a bed. Or against a wall. Or a counter. Anywhere that’s roomier than this will suffice.”

“You don’t like the improvements?” Bruce says, playful. Of course the Batmobile is cramped, but it’s much better than it used to be. Often, she’d crack her head against the roof if he wasn’t careful, or she’d end up pressing on the steering wheel, which didn’t honk so much as engage weapons.

“They’re lovely,” she replies, trying to sound bored but failing miserably. “But I’d rather focus on something else, darling. Something much lovelier.”

Her fingers curl around his wrist, and guides him to where they’re joined together. Nothing else has to be said, and he touches her, rubs her, the way he knows she likes, pushing her higher and higher until she comes with a loud, uninhibited moan.

He follows swiftly behind, eyes falling shut and hips jerking against her own.

Panting, she rests against his chest, breath puffing against his neck. He rubs her back, the gesture helping to calm them both at the same time.

Talia presses a kiss to his collarbone before pushing her hair over her shoulder. They gaze at each other for a long moment, intense even for him. Then she says, “Again?”

“The sun’ll be coming up soon,” he replies, but it’s not a no. He doesn’t think it’ll ever be a no with her.

Biting her lip again, she nods. “Yes. We’ve got time, though. Don’t we?”

The look she gives him is under her eyelashes, purposefully coy, and damn if it doesn’t work immediately.


End file.
